<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Mac and Cheese MWednesday by callmecolt (orphan_account)</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24541273">Mac and Cheese MWednesday</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/callmecolt'>callmecolt (orphan_account)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Half Live VR But The AI Is Self Aware</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>;], Domestic Fluff, Gen, No beta we die like mne, One Shot, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Rated teen for swearing, phantom pains but only mentioned</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 11:06:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,879</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24541273</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/callmecolt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a belated birthday gift to myself! Only one day late its fine. Itss fine.</p>
<p>Gordon and Joshua enjoy their weekly Mac and Cheese making sesh. Benrey is there :]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Benrey &amp; Gordon Freeman, Benrey &amp; Joshua Freeman, Gordon Freeman &amp; Joshua Freeman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>104</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Mac and Cheese MWednesday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Gordon was woken, as he usually was nowadays, by the weight of a small child pressing down on his chest. He scowls, playfully, and rolls over. Joshua squeals, thrashing in Gordon’s arms, giggles muffled by the pillows.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey kiddo!” Gordon says, voice raspy with sleep. He blindly gropes at his side table, feeling for his glasses.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Joshua only yells again, alternating between flapping his hands and tapping them on Gordon’s shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you help daddy find his glasses?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Joshua hums against him, and Gordon releases him from his dadbod prison so he can check the floor.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Woah now, they’re right here lil man. Little- uh- little blind boy. Blind little big man. No eyes beneath your dumb little- little eyelids huh.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gordon’s head snaps up, face contorting with anger.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Who- who the f- let you in? Actually, actually no, don’t answer that. How are you even alive?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Benrey shrugs, smiling sardonically down at Gordon as he takes the glasses, blinking as he puts them on.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He feels a weight against his side.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Joshua, this is Benrey. They- we- I guess we worked together? God I never wanted the two of you to meet-” He is cut off as Joshua puts a hand on his cheek, a gesture he has come to understand means ‘shut up, dad’. He watches as Joshua nervously extends a hand to Benrey, and misses the look of awe that flashes across their face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They take the hand, and shake it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So this, this is the little man of the hour, huh? Star of the show? Cringe and fail little guy? Huh? Lil Gordo? Gordon Two?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Joshua giggles and pulls his hand back, shaking his head. He signs out his name, fingerspelling it slowly as Benrey watches, rapt. Gordon takes advantage of this and slips out of bed, not caring if Benrey minded that he was only in boxers and a loose t-shirt. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Joshua, huh? Can I see some ID-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Okay, that's enough of that</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Gordon thinks, scooping Joshua up. The last thing he wants is to explain that Joshua doesn’t have a passport yet, much less any ID, sans his birth certificate.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He carries Joshua to the bathroom, so that they can both brush their teeth, as Benrey leans nonchalantly in the doorway.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Joshua finishes first, and Gordon lets him. He had never had any problems with Joshua’s teeth before, and the kid hated the taste and texture of most toothpastes, so until they found one, Gordon just let him use water. It seemed to do the trick.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It's Mac and Cheese MWednesday! </span>
  </em>
  <span>He signs excitedly, humming under his breath.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Poggers.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gordon sighs, gripping the edge of the sink. It seems that ignoring Benrey was not the way to get them to leave. His arm twinges with a phantom pain despite it still being there, and he rubs at his eyes, leveling Benrey with a look.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Benrey only shrugs again. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gordon moves to pick Joshua back up, but he wiggles away and just holds on to the bottom of Gordon’s shirt. He nods, and makes his way to the kitchen, feeling Benrey follow behind, despite his footsteps being completely silent.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He helps Joshua hop up onto the chair, and Benrey sits next to him, pulling some sort of device out, immediately diving into describing the game they’re playing in great detail. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Despite his best efforts, Gordon learns that they are playing LittleBigPlanet on the PSVita, fitting, as their hoodie has the playstation logo emblazoned on the front. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gordon shakes his head, putting the pasta on the stove. Elbow macaroni, of course, roughly a pound, because although they usually only made Mac and Cheese on Wednesdays, it was one of the only foods that Joshua would consistently eat. Well, that, and although he’d deny it to his dying breath, he’d like Benrey to have some too. Maybe shut the fucker up, for once. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Watching them out of the corner of his eye, he sees Benrey hand it to Joshua, errant spheres of the Black Mesa Sweet Voice</span>
  <span>™ bubbling around the kitchen. Rather than the normal blue, they are a pleasant yellow. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gordon drains the pasta, now al dente, and returns it to the pot, still warm. Benrey had the game back in their hands, but Joshua was now in their lap, swaying gently from side to side as he stared wide eyed at the screen. Benrey was still talking about the game, only pausing when their eyes narrowed in concentration, seeming to focus only on- well- whatever it was they were doing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gordon didn’t hate the idea of Joshua so close to Benrey. He didn’t love it either, obviously, but he had already added the cheddar- sharp, shredded, and around eight ounces of it- and he knew somehow that if he didn’t add the can- twelve ounces- of evaporated milk, he’d fuck it up irreparably. Just a hunch. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He adds the mozzarella and gouda- cubed, eight and four ounces respectively- when the pasta is cool enough to not have melted too much as he stirs. He yawns, adding three large eggs, and glances back at Joshua. He has the ps vita again, and Benrey has dived into a complete other topic, whales and the ethics of Seaworld, as background noise. Joshua however, isn't paying attention at all as he hums softly to himself, focused entirely on the screen.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He pours the mac into an appropriate dish, where one would usually make a casserole, and grates four ounces of both yellow and white cheddar, sprinkling it evenly on top, and then topping that off with two ounces of parmesan cheese, grated as well. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It might be a bit overboard but what can he say. Joshua didn’t inherit the whiteboy cheese gene from his other parent.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gordon tunes back in as he slides it into the oven- 375 degrees fahrenheit, set for 45 minutes- and turns to face the duo, crossing his arms.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I could always get my homie- homeslice- best bro Tommy to come over. He’s got this perf-” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I talk to you for a moment, actually? Benrey?” Gordon feels bad for cutting him off- he shouldn’t really-, but Joshua doesn't seem to notice as Benrey slid out from beneath him, too busy playing whatever game Benrey had on. Gordon had already forgotten. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He pulls Benrey out into the hall and rubs his eyes, smudging his glasses a bit in the process.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Whats up, Feetman?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I- look, it's not like I don't want Joshie to meet the science team. I just-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Woowwww I see. I see how it is. You- you hate us? Hate your friends? Your ride or die. Wow, Feetman,” Gordon twitches, “New low, even for you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Would you-” Gordon groans, hands balling into fists, “you’ve been so nice this far. So- so fucking normal. No. I-” he sighs “I just don’t want the kid to get overwhelmed. He- y’know-” the fight drains from him, and his shoulders slump “He gets- y'know- around new people pretty quick, but he loves meeting them I don't want him to get his hopes up and- and <em>freak out,</em> y'know?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no, I get it,” Benrey admits, leaning into his side.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gordon, touch starved but too proud to admit it, says nothing. For some reason, he believes them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Benrey opens his mouth to say something else, but the only thing that comes out is the Black Mesa Sweet Voice</span>
  <span>™</span>
  <span>, this time green.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not mean, huh?” Gordon says, watching them float over and pop when they hit the wall.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There's a thick pause, and Gordon fidgets, debating going back into the kitchen, but feeling as if there was something else to say.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Benrey beats him to it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wanna kiss?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Actually? You know what? Yes. I do. What now? Did you even plan this far ahead, Benrey?” They pause, taking their hands out of their pockets to fidget with. They lean forwards, haltingly, and press a chaste kiss</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Expecting more? This isn't even the first date, Feetman. Didn’t expect you to be- to be such a deviant. A kiss without even buying me a drink? What am I? A common harlot?” Benrey scoffs, ducking their head, but a stream of Black Mesa Sweet Voice</span>
  <span>™ slips past their teeth. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It's pink, but quickly fades to yellow, before they begin to pop against Gordon’s chest. He doesn't know what it means, but before he can ask Benrey turns sharply, ducking back into the kitchen. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They sit next to Joshua this time, and he turns to show them the screen. Benrey mumbles something congratulatory, and once he knows their line of sight is elsewhere he places a hand on his cheek.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t know quite how it makes him feel, but he decides that he will figure it out later, or at least when he has pants on. Gordon glances at the timer, and with around thirty six minutes left he decides he has enough time to, y’know, put on pants.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His room isn’t that decorated, with only his degrees and some of Joshua’s old drawings on the wall. He sighs, pulling on a pair of </span>
  <span>Black Mesa Sweatpants</span>
  <span>™, and allows his mind to wander. He knows he doesn’t hate Benrey, he knows he doesn’t… like him. Not like that, he thinks. But, then again… he puts his hand on his cheek. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His arm twinges again, and he winces. He startles when he hears the beep of the oven, was he really just standing in his room, thinking, for that long? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He jogs back, not willing to risk anything, to see Benrey pulling the mac and cheese out of the oven… with their bare hands. The shout that leaves his throat is completely unbidden, and Joshua echoes a scream right back. Benrey, however, seemed completely unphased, and places it on a potholder they had set on the counter. Huh.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You, uh, gotta let that sit for… ten minutes. I think.” Gordon says, and Benrey just gives a thumbs up in response.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He lets himself zone out again, hands in the pockets of his </span>
  <span>Black Mesa Brand Sweatpants</span>
  <span>™, staring absently at Benrey, tracing their features. Now that he thought about it, they were kinda grey. Rather than their normal helmet, though, they wore a knitted beanie, with two braided tassels attached to the sides. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They were chewing on one of them, he noted, getting out bowls and silverware, and it seemed to have no discernable brand. Although, it </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> match his hoodie, for some reason. Well, not some reason, he thought to himself, portioning out some mac and cheese for the three of them, Benrey did seem to like playstation a whole lot. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Almost killed him over it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Well, that, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and-</span>
  </em>
  <span> he shakes his head. </span>
  <span>No time for dickslip embarrassment on Mac and Cheese MWednesday, of course. He takes his first bite.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s pretty good, as always.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So?” Gordon asks between mouthfuls, “What's the verdict?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Joshua flaps his hands and squeals again as he usually does when faced with a choice bowl of mac, before tucking back into the mac and cheese. Gordon turns his attention to Benrey, whose fork sits untouched next to the bowl, as they are eating with their hands.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They grin lopsidedly, and Gordon tenses, prepared for what he knows is to come.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Pretty poggers, bro.”</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<em>
    <span>God fucking damn it</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you for reading :] gay people real</p>
<p>i'd like to thank tumblr user p0stmortem for giving me enough frenrey fuel to write this.<br/>their designs are very choice.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>